


Race and Albo Need Electricity

by timetogoslumming



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Polyamory, background javid, everyone is sorta gay because there is nothing heterosexual about newsies, kinda slowburn?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-28 18:38:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11423805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timetogoslumming/pseuds/timetogoslumming
Summary: Try as he might, Albert just can't get over the massive crush he has on his college roommate. But Race has his eyes on someone else.





	1. Ultimate Wingman

“Okay, that’s $45.62 for electricity this month,” Race said, looking up from the power bill after easily dividing it in half in his head.

“What the fuck?” Albert asked. “Why so much? It’s never that high.”

“We’ve had the AC on pretty much all the time,” Race replied. 

Al’s brow furrowed. “You think we can just like… set up a ‘Race and Albo Need Electricity’ tip jar at work?”

“You get right on that.”

 

It had all started freshman year, when Race and Al were randomly paired up as roommates. Move-in day was awkward, with Al’s mom and Race’s parents hovering in the tiny dorm room, helping to make their beds, hang up clothes, and affix posters to the walls. Race and Al grinned shyly after they noticed how well their posters matched. Race had a poster of the Apollo 11 shuttle and a photo of Saturn, and Al had a number of UFO and alien themed prints. Late that night, after their parents were gone, Race and Al sat on Race’s bed eating Cheetos and watching Space Jam, and were instantly cemented as best friends. 

Albert and Race did everything together. It only made sense when they decided to move out of the dorms the next year that they would go together. They searched all over the internet until finally finding a small two bedroom apartment a mile from campus. And when Al got fired from his job selling shoes at Macy’s, Race put in a good word for him and got him a job at The World, the very same coffeeshop that he worked at. 

Now, their life had fallen into a comfortable routine. Al and Race scheduled themselves for the same shifts whenever possible and carpooled to work, went to class (although Race went significantly more than Al), and watched whatever TV show they were binging at the time at night. They always had enough money for rent, but never quite enough to do all the things they wanted to do. 

Somewhere in between Al yelling about aliens and Race explaining the science behind extraterrestrial life, late night mac and cheese, and episode after episode of Project Runway, Al found himself falling for Race. Hard. He was experiencing the kind of love that felt like the Hulk was smashing his heart on a near-constant basis. Every time Race looked away, Al couldn’t help but admire the set of his jawline, the spark in his eyes, or, frankly, the shape of his ass. 

Although Al was constantly dropping hints that they should get together, Race only took them as jokes. Either that, or they flew right over his head. “Did you hear Jack and Davey got together?” “Finally. When’s that gonna be us, huh?” “Say the word and I’ll take you to Vegas, babe.” But as much as being painfully in love with Race hurt, the idea of losing him as a friend hurt more. If Al ever made a comment that crossed the line or confessed his feelings for real, and Race left, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself. So he ignored it and went about his life however possible. 

Al and Race both dated around, although neither of them was ever serious with anyone. They both used Tinder and Grindr all the time, comparing conquests when they were done. Sometimes, they just sat on the couch together, swiping left and right together and commenting on their respective matches. 

 

One afternoon while they were at work, Albert was manning the drink station while Race took orders. Jack, who was serving as shift leader, was back in the back, prepping a batch of scones. The door over the bell chimed and a short, muscular guy walked in. He seemed to have a permanent scowl etched across his face, but beyond that, he was hot. “What can I get you?” Race asked the guy.

“Large coffee. Black.” The guy had a heavy New York accent, which kind of matched his beefy Italian look perfectly. 

“What name can I put on that?”

“Spot.”

Race raised an eyebrow, but wrote the name on the paper cup, which he slid down the bar to Al, who quickly poured the coffee while Spot paid. As abruptly as he came in, as soon as his debit card had been accepted, Spot grabbed the cup and left, doorbell chiming behind him.

As soon as the door was closed, Race turned to Al, eyes gleaming. “Did you  _ see _ him?” Race asked excitedly. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah, bro. He was hot,” Al said good-naturedly. It was true, after all, although Al really wished that Race was saying that about someone else. Namely, his head-over-heels roommate. 

Two days later, Al was in his room, watching a video on YouTube about the top ten cryptid conspiracy theories when he heard Race screech from his own room. “He’s gay! He’s gay and I fucked up!”

“What?” Al yelled, pausing the video. 

He could hear Race running to his room before the door was ripped open without even a knock. “Spot was gay! I just saw him on Grindr!”

“Spot who?” Albert asked, looking up from his laptop. 

“The short hot guy at The World!”

“Oh, yeah. Did you match?”

“No,” Race admitted. “I panicked and swiped left.”

Al rolled his eyes. “Dude, you’re such an idiot. Didn’t you say he’s been in the shop pretty much every day?” Al had been working different shifts for a couple of days to cover for Specs, who was out of town for a dance competition. 

“Yeah.”

“So just ask him out.”

Race looked doubtful. “I don’t know, man.”

Albert shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He went to start the video he was watching again, but Race stopped him.

“Want to watch the Kardashians?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Al replied, shutting the laptop. “Start some water boiling for mac and cheese while I get it set up.”

 

In the morning, Albert and Race dragged themselves out of bed and, yawning, slumped into Race’s car. It was almost as old as they were and made a weird squealing noise every time it got over fifty miles per hour, but it got the job done a whole lot better than Al’s Vespa scooter did. As soon as they got to work, they each knocked back an espresso shot, which Jack had already made for them. Jack, like always, was wide awake. The roommates had a sneaking suspicion that Jack never slept- he just kept himself wired on coffee and paint fumes all the time. 

The morning passed by as usual, with rushes of tired middle aged people ordering plain coffees on the way to the office, as well as students ordering frozen blended drinks on the way to class. In a city filled mostly with Starbucks coffeeshops, The World had cemented itself as something of a hipster paradise, and trendy English majors and boutique owners were regular customers, thirsty for cold brew coffee and pour overs. 

A lot of their customers came through in a daze, barely coherent enough to place an order, but some of the regulars were chatty and open, and the morning shift employees knew all about their lives and jobs. 

After the biggest rush was over and they finally had a chance to breathe, the bell rang as the door opened and Spot walked in, somehow seeming to take up the entire store with his presence, even though he couldn’t be more than five foot four. Before he could even order, Race was writing on a cup. “Large black coffee for Spot?” he asked.

Spot nodded. “Yeah,” he replied. “Thanks.” 

As Spot was digging for another quarter, Al caught Race’s eye. “Do it,” he mouthed silently. Race shook his head a tiny amount, just enough for Al to see. “ _ Do it _ ,” he mouthed again. Race just slid the cup down the bar to Al before engaging Spot in a conversation about his tshirt. 

Al was about to pour Spot’s coffee, but instead grabbed the Sharpie from his pocket and scribbled Race’s phone number on the cup before filling it. He didn’t know why he did it. He could have just let Race chicken out, and that would be the end of it. But instead, he was practically handing Race over to someone else. Just because he knew Race wanted Spot. Barely breathing, Al handed the cup across the bar to Spot, who didn’t seem to notice the phone number just yet. 

As soon as Spot was gone, Jack dismissed Race to go on break, since they were in a lull. He would take over the register for a while. Race clocked out and disappeared into the back towards the breakroom, and Jack turned on Al. “What’d you do that for?” he asked. 

“What?” Al responded innocently as he wiped down the espresso machine. 

Jack rolled his eyes. “Why’d you give that guy Race’s number? I saw that.” 

Jack had known about Al’s crush on Race for ages, and he was constantly trying to get Al to tell Race how he felt. “I’m just being a good bro,” Albert said. 

Jack shook his head. “Don’t bother with being a good bro if you’re just going to make yourself miserable.”

“I’m not miserable,” Al protested. “I have a date tonight, actually.”

“You have a hookup tonight,” Jack corrected. “Which is fine, of course. Nothing wrong with that.”

Al adjusted his hat in annoyance. “What am I supposed to do?” he demanded. “Just be like Bert and Ernie? Live together forever without anything happening between us? Just give up dating and all that because Ernie’s enough, even though we aren’t together? Come on, man.”

“You’re Bert in this situation?” Jack asked, a smile twitching at the edges of his lips.

“Of course I’m Bert. I’m Albert.”

“I’m going to start calling you Bert.”

“And I’m going to kill you.”

Jack shrugged. “Whatever. But you either need to tell him or get over it.”

“I’ll get over it,” Al said confidently, although he didn’t  _ really _ believe that. It had been this long and he hadn’t gotten over it. The longer they lived together, the harder he fell. Every time he watched Race in the living room whizzing through his physics homework or solving a Rubik’s cube without even looking, every time Race yelled at the tv while watching the Kardashians or fell asleep on the couch, he ended up a little bit more in love with his best friend and roommate. 


	2. Constellations on the Ceiling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Al spends an evening with Jack and gets an eyeful.

“Albert! What did you  _ do _ ?” Al was greeted by Race’s yelling from the couch as soon as he opened the door to the apartment after his history class. He dropped his backpack by the door and headed toward the kitchen to get something to drink.

“I don’t know,” Al said dryly. “I do lots of things. Can you be more specific?” He grabbed a Gatorade from the fridge and came back to the living room, where he flopped down on the oversized beanbag chair. 

“Spot has been texting me,” Race said, holding up his phone. “Hot Spot. How would Hot Spot get my number?”

“Because I gave it to him,” Albert said casually.

Race looked like he was about to choke. “ _ When _ ?” he asked. 

“This morning. Wrote it on his cup.”

Race faked a fainting spell before rousing himself. “You are the realest homie, you know that?”

“I try,” Al said in the cheeriest voice he could muster. “So what’s Hot Spot saying?”

“We’re gonna hang out,” Race said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “I’m going over to his place tonight.”

“Oh,” Al said. “Well, have fun. Make good choices.” 

 

Race didn’t come home that night. 

 

The next morning, Race met Albert at work, wearing the same shirt as the night before. He winked at Al before going to grab a spare shirt from his locker to change into. “How’d it go?” Albert asked as they shared their traditional morning espresso shot. 

“ _ Bro _ ,” Race said emphatically. “As suspected, Hot Spot is hot. It was a  _ good _ night.” 

“Nice,” Al said with a forced grin. “So is that it, or are you gonna hang out again sometime?”

At this, Race almost looked shy. “I’m gonna see him again,” he said. “We didn’t just hook up, you know? We actually ended up like… talking. And he’s kind of awesome. We were up pretty much all night.” 

Al felt his stomach drop. Race didn’t  _ talk _ with the people he hooked up with. And he definitely didn’t come into work the next day gushing about how awesome they were. “That’s great,” he finally said. 

Race waxed poetic about Hot Spot for a while longer in between waiting on customers, before remembering that Al had had someone over, too. “Didn’t you hook up with someone last night?” he finally asked. 

“Yeah,” Al replied. “She was cool, you know. Probably just a one-time thing.” 

“Yeah.” They fell into a semi-awkward silence, which was made even worse by Spot coming into the shop. Jack, who had been listening in on the conversation, ordered Al to go check on a batch of baked goods that were cooking in the back while Spot was inside. Getting away from Race and Hot Spot helped, although he could still hear them talking from the counter. Al couldn’t make out any words, but Race was using his unmistakably flirty laugh. Al checked on the muffins in the oven, which were nowhere near being ready, and hovered in the kitchen until he finally heard the bell on the door ring again. 

Jack came into the back room then, shaking his head. “Dude, I’m sorry,” he said. 

“How bad was it?” Al asked. 

“Physically painful to watch,” Jack confirmed. “Look, I know it’s really convenient for you two to share a shift, but I’m starting to think I should switch you to afternoons. Specs has been wanting to pick up some earlier shifts, anyway.”

“I’ll be fine,” Albert sighed. 

Jack studied him for a minute. “Okay. But if I have to watch another awkward moment like that, you’re switching. Oh, and while I’ve got you here, you should come over to my place tonight.”

“Why?”

“Because Spot’s going over to yours.”

“Good looking out,” Al said with a small salute, before heading back out onto the floor. 

 

That night after classes were over, Al found himself at Jack and Crutchie’s apartment, playing video games while eating dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets and tater tots. Davey was there, propped on the edge of Jack’s chair, and Al and Crutchie shared the futon, leaning toward the tv as they focused on the race in front of them. Crutchie as Toad pulled ahead of Al’s Yoshi, but a well-aimed green shell knocked him out of the lead as Al pulled ahead easily, just in time to cross the finish line. Jack, playing as Princess Peach, had been behind since the beginning of the race and he leisurely steered his cart while Davey absently stroked his hair. “ _ Fuck _ ,” Crutchie cursed loudly, slapping his controller against his knee. 

“You can’t beat the master,” Al taunted. 

“I want a rematch,” Crutchie seethed. 

“You want a turn?” Jack asked Davey, offering him the controller while Al set up the next match. 

“Okay,” Davey replied. “I haven’t played in a long time, though, so I’m probably pretty rusty.”

The race began and Al pulled into an early lead, but Davey immediately pulled ahead, effortlessly drifting and boosting around the tight curves. His casual, almost bored facial expression didn’t change at all and Jack stared in stunned disbelief until the match ended with Davey more than half a track ahead of Albert and Crutchie. “What the  _ fuck _ ,” Al choked out. Crutchie’s jaw had been hanging open since the beginning of the match.

“I used to speedrun Mario Kart competitively,” Davey admitted with a small, smug grin. “It’s been a while, but I guess I’m still okay. Got a bad start, though.”

“What?” Jack asked dully.

“I was fourteenth in the world at one point,” Davey replied. 

“What the  _ fuck _ ?” Albert said again.

For the rest of the evening, Davey taught the guys tricks to get faster in Mario Kart until they were doing better than they ever had before, although they still couldn’t come close to beating him. At eleven o’clock, an alarm sounded on Al’s phone, signalling the time for him to take his medication. “Shit, I don’t have my meds. I’ve gotta go home. Think it’s safe yet?”

Jack shrugged. “Who knows. It’s Friday night, and it’s still pretty early.” 

“Don’t let them chase you out of your own apartment,” Crutchie said sternly. “You live there, too. If it bothers you, just have them hook up at his place.” Crutchie didn’t know about Al’s crush, and just thought that Al was annoyed about being sexiled. 

“You’re right,” Al said slowly. “Okay, I’m gonna go. Davey, you’re a nerd but you’re also a god. Crutchie, get better and maybe you can beat me someday. Jacky, I love you. Never change.”

“I love  _ you _ , Albie,” Jack gushed. Jack and Al theatrically kissed each other on the cheeks before Albert left, got back on his scooter, and drove home. He only lived a few blocks away from Jack and Crutchie, so they all hung out a lot, either at Al’s apartment or their’s. Al hadn’t known either of them before Race got him the job, but he and Jack immediately hit it off and became instant best friends. And there was no Jack without Crutchie.

Al made the trek back to his apartment, where he chained his Vespa to the side of the staircase before climbing to the third floor, where he unlocked the door and went inside. Directly in front of him, a shirtless Race was straddling Spot on the couch, making out heavily. They ripped apart as soon as they noticed Al there. Albert redirected his gaze to  _ anywhere but there _ . “Uh, sorry guys. I’m just… going to my room.”

“I thought you were hanging at Jack’s tonight,” Race said with a smirk, settling back into the couch.

“I was,” Albert said, still not looking at either of them. “But I’m home now so I’ll be in my room. Just… don’t mind me.” Albert hurried past them to his room, shutting the door behind him. He opened his medication bottle up and shook a couple of pills out, swallowing them without water. Al pulled out his phone out of his pocket and sent a text to Jack. “guess who i just walked n on”

A reply came back in under a minute. “o shit. were they havin sex?”

“nah. just didnt wanna see all that.” From the living room, Al could hear low murmurs of conversation from Race and Spot, which soon fell into suspicious silence. He sighed and put on a pair of headphones, blasting a song by the Arctic Monkeys, and laid down on his bed staring at the stars on his ceiling. His little sister made fun of him for the stars- apparently they were baby-ish. But Race had gotten the glow in the dark stars for him as a birthday gift, and they spent a night once a few days after his birthday making up their own constellations, including stories behind those constellations. 

Albert drifted in and out of sleep a few times until around two AM, when Race opened the door without knocking. “Sorry about that,” Race said jovially after Al took his headphones off. He didn’t sound very sorry. 

“You’re fine,” Al replied. “How’s Hot Spot?”

Race crossed the room in two steps and flung himself across Al’s bed. “Amazing,” he sighed. “I mean, seriously. He’s not just hot, you know? He’s like… really great to talk to, and like… I don’t know. Everything seems really straight in my head when he’s around.”

“Didn’t look very straight,” Al commented dryly. Race threw back his head and laughed. 

“Okay,” he said after composing himself. “Not straight. But you know, there’s just always a lot of noise in my head and it kinda shuts up when I’m hanging out with him.” 

Al sat up and Race laid across his outstretched legs. “You really like him, huh?” Al asked. 

Race nodded, blond hair brushing against Al’s shins. “Yeah, I actually do. Weird, huh?”

“Yeah… just promise you won’t leave me for Hot Spot,” Albert said teasingly.

Race settled his expression into a stern mask. “I would never, babe. You know you’re my one true love.” They sat in silence for a moment, both lost in thought. Al didn’t notice how his own face had fallen as he stared down at his phone, but Race did. “You okay, bro?”

Al looked back to Race, startled. “Yeah,” he said. It didn’t sound nearly as convincing as he meant it to. “I’m fine.”

Race obviously didn’t buy it. “Okay. That sounds fake. What’s going on?”

There was no way Albert was going to tell Race what was really going on. He had always been okay watching Race go about his various hookups, but there were never any feelings attached. Now, though, it looked like he and Spot were going to make things official at any moment. And it hurt. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay,” Race said. He reached over to the desk next to the bed and grabbed a Rubik’s cube, which he had left in there, and started to solve it. “You don’t have to talk about it, but that’s what bros are for, you know? I got your back.”

“Thanks, bro,” Al replied, watching as Race flicked the rows into place with ease. He knew he could tell Race anything. Race was the first person he told when he got arrested for vandalism, he was the first person Albert came out to, and he was the only person that knew Albert’s entire celebrity crush list. But there was no way they could talk about this. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im not doing daily updates! i promise!


	3. Grindr

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Albert gets some sense knocked into him.

Over the next few weeks, Spot became a nearly permanent fixture at Race and Albert’s apartment. He and Race finally made things official, and Albert found himself spending more and more time either at Jack’s apartment or locked in his room. 

One morning after a long lie-in, Albert got up to go get some breakfast from the kitchen. He froze in the living room, though, upon seeing Spot and Race intertwined on the couch, watching Space Jam. “Morning, Al,” Spot said casually.

“Morning,” Albert replied. “You guys are watching Space Jam?” 

Race glanced over at Al. He actually looked guilty. “Yeah. You wanna watch?”

“Uh, no,” Albert replied. “I’m going over to Jack’s. You guys have a good one.” He grabbed a bagel and, without even changing out of his pajamas, headed over to Jack’s apartment. 

A sleepy-eyed Davey opened the door, wearing no shirt and a pair of paint splattered sweatpants that Al was sure were Jack’s. “Good morning, Albert,” Davey said. “To what do we owe the pleasure?” Albert made his way inside, and he spotted Jack in the kitchen, scrambling a huge pan of eggs. 

“They’re watching Space Jam,” Al said miserably, taking a seat at the kitchen table.

“Great movie,” Jack commented. 

“Yeah, it is,” Al said. “But it’s like…  _ our _ thing. You know?”

Jack and Davey exchanged a significant look and without a word, Davey stepped up to take over on the eggs while Jack took a seat across the table from Albert. “You don’t own Space Jam,” Jack said gently.

“Yeah, I do,” Al argued. “It’s my DVD.”

Jack shook his head. “No, man. I mean you aren’t the only person that gets to watch that movie. I  _ know _ you like Race, bro. I get it. But this is getting ridiculous. He’s happy. A lot more happy than he’s been in a long time. Spot’s cool, and they’re really good together.”

“Thanks, bro,” Al said miserably. “That makes me feel so much better.”

“I know you don’t want to hear it,” Jack continued. “But you need to.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do?”

The eggs were finally finished, and Davey brought over platefuls for the three of them. Crutchie, who was definitely not a morning person, was still in bed. “You’ve got to get over it,” Jack said. “Or ignore it, either one. Stop being so bitter about Race finding someone else, because it was bound to happen sometime if you didn’t tell him you liked him. Go on some dates or something, I don’t know. But stop obsessing over this. It’s not good for you or Race. Or me, to be honest. Bro, I love you but you’re here all the time.”

Albert sulkily ate his eggs in silence, processing everything that Jack had said. Jack was right, and he knew it, but that didn’t make the truth any easier to bear. After they finished, Albert dutifully rinsed everyone’s plates- it was the least he could do after barging in. “Albo,” Jack said, throwing an arm over Davey’s shoulders. “I love you, bro, but I had plans with Davey this morning that don’t involve visitors, so I’m gonna have to kick you out.”

“ _ Jack _ ,” Davey protested, but Jack planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek. 

“Okay,” Al said. “I get it. I’m leaving. Thanks for breakfast, though.” He left, cruising around town for a while, just trying to kill enough time that he wouldn’t have to watch them watching Space Jam when he got home. Finally, though, it started to rain, and Albert made his way home as quickly as his scooter could. As he pulled up to their building, Al noticed with a sigh of relief that Race’s car was gone. 

He made his way up the stairs and unlocked the door of the apartment, but it wasn’t empty. Just inside, Spot was sitting expectantly on the couch. Albert jumped about three feet in the air. “Sorry,” Spot said hurriedly. “Race had to run out to finish up a lab and he left me here.”

“Oh, Albert said awkwardly. “That’s cool.”

“Yeah…” An uncomfortable silence hung between the two of them. “Can we talk?” Spot asked. He motioned for the empty space on the couch, and Albert took a seat, leaving as much distance between the two of them as possible. Spot seemed to be planning his words very carefully in his head before speaking. “You don’t like me,” he finally said. It wasn’t a question.

“It’s not that,” Albert said slowly. It didn’t sound very convincing. 

“No, you don’t,” Spot argued. “It’s okay, you don’t have to. I just want to know what your problem with me is.”

“I don’t have a problem with you,” Al insisted. “I don’t even know you.”

Spot crossed his arms. It was probably meant to be a casual move, but came off as menacing. “Nah, you don’t. So why are you acting like you and Race aren’t even hardly friends anymore since I came around?”

“I-” Albert froze. “What?”

“Race told me last night. You and him never hang out anymore and he misses you, and it’s obviously cause of me.” Albert opened his mouth to speak, but Spot held up a hand in warning. “Don’t say it isn’t. He’s really upset, and he really misses you, so whatever you have against me, can you just like… ignore it for him?”

“ _ I like Race _ ,” Albert blurted out. As soon as the words escaped his lips, he wanted to grab them and shove them back in before they could hit Spot’s ears. 

Spot, to Albert’s surprise, didn’t look mad. He just leaned back, eyebrows shooting upwards. “Yeah? Since when?”

Al hung his head. “Pretty much since the first day of freshman year,” he admitted. “Do me a favor. Please don’t kill me.”

“Why would I kill you?” Spot asked. His tone was kind, but his general voice was gruff enough that Albert almost wanted to flinch. “That fucking sucks for you, though. He doesn’t know, does he?”

“No, of course not.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell him? I mean, I’m happy you didn’t for my sake, but you probably should’ve.”

Albert rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right. That wasn’t happening. It would make things too weird."

“So you don’t hate me?” Spot confirmed.

“No.”

“You just hate that I’m dating Race.”

“Yeah.”

Spot nodded. “Okay, I’m cool with that. Because I don’t know that many people here, and you seem really cool when you’re not being all weirdly jealous, so maybe we can just be friends or something.”

“I’ll only be your friend if you don’t tell Race what I said,” Albert replied. 

“I won’t,” Spot promised.

“Ever,” Al added. “I mean it. You breathe a word, you die. The idea of killing you seems kind of impossible but I’ve got friends who can find a way.”

At this, Spot burst out in deep, booming laughs. “What the  _ fuck _ , Al? We’ve been friends for thirty seconds and you’re already threatening my life. What are you, part of the mafia?”

“No,” Albert replied. “But I have friends.”

Spot smirked. “Ooh, I’m so scared.”

 

That night, Albert bought pizza for himself and Race as a sign of goodwill. After a heartfelt apology about how Al had prematurely judged Spot (they had settled upon that reasoning after a long talk about their workout schedules), the two roommates sat down in front of Keeping Up With the Kardashians like any normal night. Albert had his phone out and was swiping his way through Tinder and Grindr while Race leaned over his shoulder, giving suggestions. After a long row of duds, a familiar face made both of them freeze. Spot’s face stared up from Albert’s screen. 

“Uh… did you know Spot was still on Grindr?” Al asked. 

Race’s face took on a weird expression. “Yeah, actually. We kinda had a talk about it. Spot’s poly.”

“He’s what?”

“Polyamorous,” Race explained. “Means he can date multiple people, as long as I’m okay with it.”

Albert frowned, still holding his phone with Spot’s face staring at him. “Isn’t that cheating? Come on, Race.”

Race shook his head quickly. “No, I thought that at first, too, but it’s not. It’d be cheating if he didn’t tell me or if I wasn’t okay with it.”

“Yeah, but he’s  _ your _ boyfriend.”

“Yeah,” Race replied with a nod. “And right now, I’m his only boyfriend. I mean, he’s gone on a few dates, but that’s it. But he might get another someday, but only if I say it’s okay.”

Albert sighed. “I don’t know, Race. I don’t want you to like… get hurt, you know?”

“Thanks, bro. But it’s honestly  _ fine _ . I mean, it makes sense, you know? Like, you can have crushes on multiple people at once, right? So why can’t you go out with them both?”

“So, are you poly then?”

Race shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe. I’m not mad about it. I mean, I really like Spot, and he’s definitely keeping me busy, if you know what I mean, but if someone else came along? Maybe, bro. I’m open to it.”

“Huh,” Albert said thoughtfully. Suddenly, Spot’s cavalier acceptance of Al’s crush made a lot more sense. “Well, I’m swiping right on your boyfriend.” He swiped his thumb across the screen and after a second, a notification popped up that they had matched. Laughing, Race and Al cheered and high-fived. 

That night, Al went to bed, pulled up Google on his laptop, and typed in “polyamory”. After sorting through some cases about the legality of polygamy, a lot of fanfiction, and more than a little bit of porn, he found himself up well into the night researching and by the time he fell asleep, was pretty well-versed in all of the different lingo and types of relationships out there, especially for a boy who was only interested in one person. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this chapter was so short! i feel like it covers a lot of ground, though, and i don't want to overload things. i promise im not doing daily updates!

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you guys liked this!! it's definitely not my best work, but i've enjoyed it. i've fallen deep into albert/ ralbert/ spralbert hell and this is what happened. (dont expect daily updates like i did with mountain ridge!)  
> check me out on tumblr @ timetogoslumming


End file.
